Won't Go Home Without You
by my love addiction
Summary: The three times Peter Parker would not go home without Gwen Stacy. One-shot. AU. Post-movie. Slightly Introspective. The Amazing Spider-Man movie.


**Okay, okay. I know…I had this story out there before, but I didn't like it so I took it down, edited it, tweaked a few things here and there… and now, voila! (I don't think that's how you spell it) Don't be mean in the reviews. Please.**

**Geesh, sorry for asking-**

**Obviously, this fanfic was inspired by the song Won't Go Home Without You by Maroon 5. Love the song, and it just came to me that the whole song could've happened to Peter and Gwen. For a little background, Peter and Gwen are still seniors at Midtown Science High. In this story, they are together when it starts. Doesn't really matter how and why they got together, they just are. Deal with it.**

**Third person POV. AU. Post-movie. NO RELEVANCE TO OTHER STORIES. Faintly introspective.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to The Amazing Spider-Man or Maroon 5 and their songs.**

_Summary: The three times Peter Parker would not go home without Gwen Stacy._

**:::**

_It's not over tonight  
Just give me one more chance to make you mine  
I may not make through the night  
I won't go home without you_

_ Maroon 5, Won't Go Home Without You_

**:::**

**The First Time**

Peter Parker wasn't really one to ask for help. He was a closet-cocky kind of guy, filled with arrogance that he trapped inside of him in a tightly locked drawer during the day, only opening that drawer at night when he prowled through the streets of New York, watching over its inhabitants. And even then he wore a mask.

But in the end, he was arrogant. Just like every other guy. Period. And since he was one of those guys, he was too proud to admit he was lost (and in his beloved city) to Gwen when five turned into five-thirty and five-thirty turned into six as they wandered around southern New York for the restaurant his parents had their first date at, according to Aunt May.

"Peter," Gwen sighs for the fifth time within the last twenty minutes, pulling her coat tighter around her as the early March winds tug at their hair and attack their necks. "I think we should just call it a night. Head back home. I've got a U.S. History essay to write about the European settlement and you know how much that kicks my butt…"

Peter grimaces, not quite finished with his hunt for Sarah's Sit-down. He scans the buildings lining the street they're on, but the restaurant isn't one of them. He's sure Aunt May had said it lies where 50th and 47th meet. But here they are, on the corner of 50th and 47th, and Sarah's Sit-down is nowhere in sight. He can hear Gwen's stomach grumble, and it's like a domino effect on his own, his grumble much louder, though.

"I'm sorry, Gwen," he mumbles. "I must've gotten the streets mixed up."

Gwen smiles softly at him and shakes her head a little.

"Peter, it's okay to mess up sometimes." Taking his hand, she starts for the nearest Subway station, but Peter tugs her down the first alley they pass. Gwen's eyes widen.

"You wanna swing?" she asks, a subtle hint of shock in her voice. Peter shakes his head a little impatiently.

"I want you to come home with me." Gwen's eyebrows shoot up her forehead before burrowing down to form a straight line. The wind blows down the alley and kicks up a few loose strands of hair hanging down from inside her hat. Peter's expression is pleading and the tiniest bit guilty. Her lips twitch up.

"Why?"

"I owe you a dinner. I promised I'd take you out to eat tonight but since we haven't eaten yet, maybe we could eat at my place," he explains, eyes on his shoes as he kicks absently at some pebbles on the ground.

"You wouldn't want me denied of a simple dinner?" Gwen teases. He flashes a brief smile at her. "I don't know…what would we have?"

"I'm sure I can make something."

"You mean you're going to make dinner?" she asks with a light chuckle. Peter nods. "Have you ever cooked before?" He makes a face, his smile slipping from it.

"No…but I've seen my aunt cook a million times – it shouldn't be that hard."

Gwen beams incredulously. "But you can't have your aunt help you. I'd need the full 'Peter Parker dinner'." Peter shrugs, a small yet adorable smile painted on his lips.

"My aunt's not home; she's at her sister's. You'll just have to watch me to make sure I don't cheat or something – order take-out, maybe." To his surprise, Gwen's face falls, though minimally, and Peter sees her grind her teeth together.

"I don't know…" she mumbles, trailing off weakly. "My mom's probably waiting for me to come home and help with the boys." Peter frowns.

"I thought you just said you wanted me to make you dinner? You were fine with it a second ago."

Gwen purses her lips to the side, shoving her hands in the pocket of her trench coat. "I know…" She's quiet for a moment, shuffling her feet from side-to-side uncomfortably. "But now that I think about it, my mom really does need me tonight-"

"Please, Gwen?" He cuts her off, turning his dark, burning eyes on her and using the full force of them. At least in her opinion. Gwen's breath gets caught in her throat.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I told you…I have to be there for my mom. My brothers are going through a really tough time…I mean, they're by themselves, now. We all are but it really got Howard down because he feels like he has to be the man of the house but I don't want him to see it like that and…I'm sorry, but it just – it just sorta came to me now."

"Gwen-" he pleads softly.

"Peter, don't do that. Any other night would be fine, but I really – oh!"

In a flash, Peter brings his hand out of his jacket pocket and flicks his wrists, sending a biocable web flying at her and hitting her forearm, causing her to stumble back as her arm is latched on to the wall behind her. She looks up at her arm hovering awkwardly above her before whipping her head around to look at Peter.

"What – why did you – what was -?"

"I'm not letting you go unless you come back with me and let me make you dinner. You and I both know that you'll have that essay done in less than thirty minutes and _still _earn an A – and didn't you just say the other day how Howard loved being in charge?" Peter smiles crookedly at her, putting his hands back in his pockets. Gwen stares at him wordlessly, a little numb with shock and adrenaline at the prospect of being pinned to the wall by her super-human boyfriend. A little clumsily, she starts clawing at the webbing on her arm, but it's no use. She's trapped there like a fly in his web. She shivers, and not just from the cold. When Gwen finally gets the courage to look back up at him, his expression's an intense, thoughtful one.

"Peter-"

"Please."

"…I can't…"

"I don't care. I wanna make it up to you."

"You can do that some other night."

He shakes his head back and forth swiftly. "No, tonight," he says stubbornly, though he also seems to be enjoying himself.

There's a long pause before she answers. She was reveling in the fact of how much Peter wanted her to come home with him. Realizing she pretty much had no other option, she exhales silently.

"Fine. But it better be good."

Peter pushes off from the wall opposite her and comes towards her. He peels the webs off from her wrist and arm effortlessly, smiling faintly to himself. She guesses it's the stickiness in his hands that makes it so easy for him. Gwen watches him closely, measuring his expression and creating a mental note to not give in the next time; all she ever does is spoil him. Someone has to keep him grounded. When the last of the biocable finally falls to the alley's floor, Peter looks up to meet her eyes.

It's like the sounds of New York have faded as the two teenagers challenge each other with their eyes, both wondering who's gaze could be more serious, more deep, more passionate than the other's. A cloud of silent, electrified chemistry floats around them, covering them from head-to-toe in it and keeping them in their own bubble, their own world. This is what it feels like, every time they look at each other; every time they _really_ look at each other.

God, she's in trouble.

**:::**

**The Second Time**

Peter Parker wasn't really one to complain. He usually kept everything bottled-up, eventually letting it out by screaming to the high-heavens on the roof of some building. Sometimes he let it out on innocent, passing birds (hey, there's enough pigeons already) with a simple press of a button, sometimes on suspects and criminals he contends with each night (but they deserve it), and sometimes on his girlfriend (though not directly, and they're very rare.) And it's not what you think; all he would do is grumble and pace back and forth in her room while her mom was at work and her brothers were locked in their rooms, eyes glued to their portable video games. He'd maybe raise his voice once or twice, causing Gwen to flinch from her usual spot perched in her desk chair.

But these occasions were very rare. He never liked having Gwen see him so…whiny, so selfish – so weak. Talk about manhood-degrading. However, it is a way of letting her know he trusts her. Trusts her with his secret, trusts her with his heart. Hell, he even trusts her with his life, hence all the First Aid she's performed on him. It's true: she _is _the only person that sees both sides of the real him, but still, he's a guy and she's a girl. It's as simple as that.

Except he can't keep the hisses from escaping through his tight lips, or the breathless profanities he mutters under his breath. And she just seems to catch those, too. Great. Now there went his class. He knows she thinks it's her fault as she readjusts her hands' positions over his shoulders and back; he feels bad and wants to reassure her that it is, in fact, not her, but the pattern of bruises decorated on his back and the large gash on his side dripping gallons of blood by the minute, not to mention the other battle scars and wounds he has scattered all over his body.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers over and over. He shifts his head marginally to the side, seeing her eyes filled with tears that she refuses to let fall; her version of being brave. Peter groans, and not from the pain, but Gwen takes it that way and whimpers in frustration. Slowly, she helps him sit down on the concrete floor of the warehouse when he asks if they can stop and rest. Peter had called her from here, saying he needed her help. No questions were asked, even when she got there and saw the state of him: blood coating his suit, left eye swollen and purple, gash the size of Texas etched into his side. Gwen only silently came up to him (he had just been lying in the middle of the floor) – desperately trying to keep herself from hyperventilating – and helped him up as gently as she could.

Peter sighs heavily as he leans back to rest his aching spine on the cool ground. Those drug dealers really knew how to fight.

"Peter, you have to get up…you're bleeding too much," Gwen moans softly, one hand slowly making its way over to cover her mouth with her hand. Oh, man, she really wants to cry. Peter sits up as quickly as possible without making a face, watching her with frantic eyes and a painful expression.

"Hey hey hey, look. I'm up – I'm up-" he whispers, seeing the first tear leave her eye. She looks furious with herself – or maybe with him…he can't tell which.

"Peter, we need to get you to a – a hospital and get you fixed. I can't – I can't do that…" She gestures to the hole in his side. He nods understandingly.

"I know, and I didn't think you would. It's not your job – but I'm not going to the hospital."

"Peter, you can't just go home-"

"I have to."

"What about your aunt? You're not going to make her do it, are you?"

Peter grimaces at the memory of his aunt trying to take the bullet from his leg before throwing the white flag in the air and rushing him to the hospital. There were a lot of questions, he can tell you that.

"It's Wednesday, so she'll be at her knitting club – Gwen, I need you to come with me. I won't make you do anything or – or look at anything, but I need you there. I'll stitch myself up, but if something goes wrong, I want you to be there. If you can't live without me as much as I can't live without you, you'll come."

"Peter, this one…I can't…I just – "

"I need you, Gwen. Please. I'm not going home – or anywhere – without you."

She pauses for a second before stooping down and capturing his split upper lip between her lips. She pulls back to look at him before closing her eyes tightly.

"You know I can't argue with you when you're dying right in front of me." He smiles weakly, eyes twitching as she helps him up once again. Gwen holds tight to his waist and lets him put all of his weight on her. Peter exhales deeply as they take their first few steps towards her car.

"And I thought it was because of the suit."

**:::**

**The Third Time**

Peter Parker wasn't really one to beg. To be honest, he actually got his way a lot. His aunt, by all means, spoiled him rotten, especially after the incident with the Lizard. She's never admitted it, but he has a feeling she knows he's Spider-Man, and in her eyes, the only way to get him to come home was to give him what he wants. Make home a better place to be. So, he doesn't beg as often as a regular teenager would.

Begging is a little strange to Peter, a little…different. For one, you have to choose the right words, and if you know him, you must know that Peter Parker is not good with words. So there's that right there. But then, you even have to express the words correctly. Deliver them in such a powerful way it touches the heart of whoever you're delivering the words to. (Yeah, as if he's good at that, too)

He's touched Gwen Stacy's heart before; he knows that for sure. Just take the fact that he's pressed up against her so tightly, an outsider wouldn't be able to tell whose limbs were are whose. Or take the fact that his lips seem to glue themselves to her lips or her cheeks or her neck. Or take the fact that she's probably told him she loves him five times just _tuh-day_. So yes, he has touched Gwen Stacy's heart. But now…now he wants to capture it. Put it in a drawer, lock it with a key, and call it his own. It's his heart. His girl. He knows she feels the same. He can see the looks. He can feel the touches. He can hear the sharp intakes of breath she has whenever he kisses her.

It's all very motivational, except even with its help, he can't find the right words to beg. Oh, yes. He knows he'll have to beg. This is Gwen Stacy, for crying out loud – pretty much every guy in the school knew that if they were in Peter's position, they would _still_ have to beg.

Peter doesn't mind begging. It's new, so it's a little fun to try. Peter also doesn't mind waiting. He could wait forever for this girl. But it's times like these where the both of them are on the same page when he starts to wonder if things will just…happen. They're so in love; so hopelessly, overwhelmingly, uncontrollably in love. He just can't take it anymore, in these situations, and he feels as if she's the same, but then she'll sigh and lean away, snuggling up into the crook of his neck and he's left to cover his lower half.

But this time. This time is different. He _will_ beg. He just knows that she's right there with him, and it'll only take his little extra push. He's not rude like other guys, forcing their girlfriends or anything. And if she says no, she says no. Like before, he doesn't mind waiting, although it does seem to mess with his mind a bit.

He had brought her up to the top of a studio overlooking 7th Street. She had claimed she just wanted some down-time. Some time away from her brothers and her mom to be with him and to relax. Mostly to be with him. An innocent request. He had told her to hang on tight as he scaled the building swiftly, and soon enough the two of them stood on the roof, overlooking New York. Their home. And suddenly, she had pounced. Pounced right on him like a mountain lion (though he's never seen one in action, so he could be wrong). Her frantic lips found his surprised ones in a heartbeat, forcing them to move against hers in a way that could only be described as a 'Peter and Gwen' kiss. He'll have to remember to copyright that.

To tell the truth, they've been kissing for a while. Like a long while. Like longest they've ever gone. But now it's getting dark as the sun keeps sinking into the horizon while playing a game of 'Hide-n-Seek' with the skyscrapers. They're on that side of OsCorp tower where the sun's directly behind it, illuminating the building from behind. Peter barely acknowledges it over Gwen's shoulder as the two take a much-needed breather. When he kisses her again, it's soft, tender, and meaningful.

Her eyes are open when she pulls back. She understands what he's getting at, just by the kiss.

Peter Parker is not good with words, but he would get down on his knees and beg.

Except there's no need.

There's no need for him to say another word besides these six:

"I won't go home without you."

She smiles delicately, and her eyes give the silent, "I know." Draping her arms around his neck, she secures herself to him. Her lips brush up against his jaw, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses that make it hard to concentrate on anything else besides them. Gwen's legs jump up to wrap around his waist and he places an arm protectively around her lower back, cradling her to him. He can't swing home fast enough.

Aunt May's not at the house when they get there, but honestly, Peter could've cared less if she was. Gwen still cuddled in his arms, he bursts through the back door, having landed in the alley behind his house (he probably should've checked if the neighbors were watching or not – oh, well). He stumbles a little in the dark kitchen, and Gwen giggles lightly against his lips. But he knows this house like the workings of his webbing devices: front and back, side-to-side, inside and out. He finds the stairs with a second-nature and ascends them with super-human agility, leaving Gwen a little breathless as he carries her down the narrow hallway and into his bedroom.

He sets her down slowly, eyes locking with hers as her feet are lowered to the floor. It's quiet for a moment, no sounds, no movement. Then Gwen's hand comes up to cup his bruised cheek, and her fingers inch along the purple skin to have the tips of them slide into his hair. He closes his eyes briefly at the soft touch, reaching his left hand out to her waist to bring her closer. With his right hand, he triggers the webbing device. The soft sucking sound of biocable connecting with his door is all that's heard before he jerks the door shut with a quick flick of his wrist. The last thing seen, his lips coming together with hers in a 'Peter and Gwen' kiss.

**:::**

Peter Parker is not one to ask for help, or to complain, or to beg. He goes through life confronting his own problems and facing them head-on. He takes responsibility for his actions and deals with the consequences. He's a proud man –

But when it comes to her – he'd ask her for help, he'd let her see his weak side, he'd get down on his knees and beg her just for another moment with her. When it comes to her…let's just say he won't go home without her.

**The End.**

**Hope you liked it. Stayed up late for it, so be kind. Enjoy-**

**TeamSwiss737**


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